


i look at you, and i'm home

by LuciferCaelestis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sheith Secret Santa 2016, Shiro realising that Keith is his home, i love these dorks okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9050836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferCaelestis/pseuds/LuciferCaelestis
Summary: Future fic. Shiro has a nightmare, and a glimpse into the life of Shiro and Keith after Zarkon’s defeat.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dokuhan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dokuhan/gifts).



> title is from finding nemo because i'm lame. this is for dokuhan on tumblr for the sheith secret santa 2016. hope you like it.

He’s sitting in his cell, head against the wall and eyes closed, body trembling from exhaustion and despair. Each day is an endless cycle of fighting and surviving, healing just enough to be put back into the ring and being forced to fight once more. He’s killed so many, all for the sake of his own survival, but it was a steep price to pay for all the blood on his hands that could never be washed out. 

He's developed a variety of ways to ground himself while trapped in his cell. Tapping his fingers in patterns of eight, breathing in and out to a certain rhythm, even several attempts at meditation. Anything to keep from losing himself in his own mind. Sometimes when he’s feeling particularly masochistic, he'll think of home and happy memories and all he'd lost and how he was never getting it back.

The sound of the door opening is what finally gets him to open his eyes. He’s just fought in the ring today and he needs time to heal after narrowly winning against his opponent. No one is waiting to escort him though, so his suspicions are immediately aroused. They’ve done this before, led him to believe he could escape only to catch him in the act. It was a crushing blow for him, destroying what little hope he had had of escaping his prison.

He makes his way out slowly and carefully, making sure there are no guards around to detain him. Over months, he’s memorized the patterns and schedules of the sentries, as well as the way to the escape pods. He doesn’t know if he can get there undetected, but he has to take this chance because he might never get another one.

The purple glow of the ship’s lights lend an eerie feeling to the surroundings. 

As he makes his way towards the escape pods, he notices that the corridors and passageways are all very similar to each other with practically no distinguishing features, but he knows that he just passed that corridor before. Shaking his head, he wonders if maybe his exhaustion was affecting him more than he thought. 

Several turns later, he’s very confused and more than a little scared. He keeps ending up where he began and he doesn’t know what’s happening. He starts running.

Each turn he takes feels familiar, and he can’t escape the feeling of having done it before. The eerie glow haunts him, seeming very sinister to his panicking mind. It almost seems like the shadows are going to start jumping at him, his fear distorting reality.

He's running, breathless. He won't stop, he can't stop, they'll catch him if he does and he doesn’t want to know what they would do if they caught him trying to escape again. He never wants to go back to the experimentation table.

 _Run. Run. Run._ That’s all that echoes in his mind.

He’s so close he can almost taste it but the corridors are endless. There’s an overwhelming feeling of deja vu, because he could have sworn that he just passed that door a few minutes ago and he begins to panic even more because he’s trapped and he has nowhere else to go.

His footsteps echo, the sound of his feet hitting the metal floors in an almost-rhythm, and it’s comforting to him. But he's tired, so very tired, and now all he can do is run. His pulse beats heavily in his ears and his body is weighed down by the weary exhaustion of having been pushed too far. Yet, he cannot stop, not even to catch his breath, because they'll kill him if he does, they'll make him a weapon, they'll make him their champion.

 _They already have_.

He wakes up quietly the way he always has since becoming a prisoner of the Galra all those years ago. It doesn't even disturb the person sleeping next to him.

He pushes himself up to an upright position and breathes deeply, trying to calm himself down. Leaning on the headboard, he puts his head in his hands, heart pounding and mind racing. He just can’t stop thinking, his brain just won’t stop coming up with ideas how it could have been worse.

He goes through his breathing exercises, trying to slow things down enough that he can pick things apart. The sensation of the blankets on his skin is too much and he pushes them off forcefully. He feels like he can’t breathe, like he’s trapped and there’s no way out. He knows these are residual feelings from that nightmare he had, but knowing that doesn’t really help when he’s trying to hold off a panic attack. In an attempt to calm down, he engages himself with his surroundings, just listening to the sound of the desert late at night, observing the wind blowing through the open window and the sight of the open sky, stars shining brightly. His breathing slows down and his heart finally beats steadily in a natural rhythm. He relaxes his muscles one by one, losing the tenseness that built up after waking up like that. Shifting on the bed, he leans against the headboard, feeling slightly better after this mindless routine. 

In the silence of their room, he could hear Keith's quiet breathing and the soft whir of the fan, the world for once silent, even inside his head. Keith's sleeping face was peaceful and the sight of it still filled Shiro with the same joy it had years ago, even if he had seen it countless times since then. It was a sign of trust that Keith would allow him so close, defenceless as he was when he slept. Keith was curled up under a pile of blankets, having moved away from Shiro at some point in the night to wrap himself into a little Keith burrito. He has no intention of disturbing Keith’s sleep, even if he really wants some comfort after his nightmare.

The fact that Keith slept like that is always a source of amusement for Shiro. They would begin the night spooned in each other’s arms, but in his sleep Keith would then tug back all the blankets and burrow himself in them. It was adorable, even if he kind of wanted to wake up with Keith in his arms at least once.

“Shiro?” a sleepy mumble comes from under the bundle of blankets. Apparently, his movements had disturbed Keith from his sleep.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Shiro apologizes, regretful. If at least one of them got a full night’s sleep, it would be great. He wasn't the only one who got nightmares after all. They just tended to trade off most of the time.

“Go back to sleep. It’s too early to be awake.” More sleepy grumbling from Keith comes. Shiro’s heart is tender but his mind is still raging even if it is better than before and he knows he won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon.

“Sorry, babe, I can’t.” 

“Nightmares?” Keith’s head pops out of his blanket-burrito, looking concerned for Shiro. They’ve established a system over the years when it comes to Shiro’s nightmares. “How bad was it?”

“Six or seven, maybe?”

“You sure?” Keith is so gentle with him. He knows Keith’s gentleness well by now, but his tenderness is still enough to make him melt. 

“Eight.” He says, defeated. He doesn’t want to worry Keith, but he knows Keith would be even more upset if Shiro had lied to him instead.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not yet.” Keith leaves it at that, knowing not to press him too fast. 

“Can I touch you?” Sometimes after a nightmare, Shiro just could not bear to be touched, and the few times he had shared the bed with Keith, had almost thrown Keith across the room by mistake thinking he was still inside a nightmare. So now, Keith knew better than to touch Shiro without asking him first.

“It’s fine.” He wants Keith to touch him, it would remind him that their days as paladins and defenders of the universe were over and he’s desperate to go back to the way things are now, peaceful and happy.

“Ok.” Making sure that Shiro can see him, Keith frees himself from the blanket and wriggles closer to Shiro, even holding out a part of it for Shiro to huddle under. Grabbing Shiro’s hand, he nonchalantly rests his head on Shiro’s shoulder and waits patiently. Keith’s hand is a warm weight in his, his touch grounding him, and Shiro feels an overwhelming amount of love for Keith then. 

Squeezing Keith’s hand firmly, he tries to remember clearly the details of his nightmare. After a long pause to gather his words, he starts talking. Keith’s silent comfort warms him all the way as he confesses how trapped he felt, stuck in an endless loop trying to escape his captors. The worst feeling, he admits, was the hopelessness. More than the fear and the panic, it had been the hopelessness that sunk deep into his heart as he lost any chance of freedom.

Keith is silent throughout his confession, opting to squeeze Shiro’s hand periodically and rub his thumb soothingly on Shiro’s hand as a silent gesture of comfort and support.

After that, he feels slightly overwhelmed and falls into a deep silence. Respecting his decision, Keith remains silent and they sit there together for a while, letting things pass by naturally unspoken. Feeling lighter after expelling his feelings, Shiro presses a light kiss on Keith’s hand, cradling it with all the gentleness he can muster.

Flustered and hoping to make light of the situation, Keith tries to make a joke. Knowing Shiro’s fascination with holding his hand and his hands in general, he smiles shakily, “We’ve been together how many years now and you still get this excited about holding my hand? Shouldn't you be used to it by now? What would you do without me, I wonder.”

Pretending that he hadn’t gotten that jibe, Shiro replies very seriously. “No amount of time is ever enough to get used to you, Keith.” He pauses for a while. “You always hog all the blankets anyway, I’ve gotten so used to it that I almost miss being cold when you’re gone. I wonder what it would be like to feel warm when I sleep, I can’t even imagine it now.” _Lies, really. He always feels warm when he sleeps with Keith, he doesn’t need any blanket for that_.

“Really, Takashi?” Keith’s jaw drops open and he moves his body away from Shiro in mock offense. “Do you really want to start this now?” Spotting a chance to surprise Shiro, he grabs a pillow sneakily and positions it carefully behind him.

“Well when else can I-” Shiro’s reply is cut off by a pillow to his face and he grunts in surprise, eyes wide open. Recovering from his shock quickly, he grabs another pillow and holds it in front of his face, readying himself for another attack from Keith. “If it’s a fight you want, Keith, it’s a fight you’ll get!” he yells out, feeling surprisingly gleeful.

Keith makes a tactical retreat then, leaving the room so Shiro arms himself with as many pillows as he can. He knows that Keith has an advantage over him in this kind of game and taking Keith by surprise would be the best way to win.

He leaves the room cautiously, clutching his various pillows in preparation, a giddy feeling in his chest. Suddenly he's bombarded by pillows on every side. He's shocked only for a moment before he spots Keith and goes straight for him. 

Their game leads them all over the house, things get dislodged and Shiro's sure he heard one of their vases break but they're both too engrossed in their game to care much. They've both landed a mostly equal number of hits, he's not even sure if they're keeping score, but it's fun and happy and his heart feels so light for the first time this night.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn't notice Keith creeping up behind him until he feels arms going around his shoulders and a great weight on his back and he has to stop himself from reacting _because it’s Keith, it’s just a game_. He ends up on the floor with Keith on top of him, having successfully turned the tables on him. They’re both play-wrestling, trying to get the other to submit first, like they aren’t actual paladins with years of experience in combat. Keith is fast, has a keen eye and fights dirty, aiming for spots where he knows Shiro is ticklish. After Shiro’s fruitless attempts at taking control, he finally gains the upper hand and manages to pin Keith on his back. Looking at Keith, with his hair messed up, his face flushed from exertion and his eyes as bright as stars, he bursts into peals of helpless laughter and soon enough, Keith joins him too. Their shared laughter rings inside the house and the night feels warm and lovely again. 

It strikes him then that this is his home. His home is Keith, wrapped up in multiple blankets, shared laughter and warm moments together, and the sense of belonging and this is right and sharing his space with someone else and falling in love with Keith all over again every single day. This was the rest of his life now. It’s 3am, he just woke up from a nightmare and he’s mentally exhausted but he has this, pillow fights and warmth and the man he loves, and it’s enough. He’s home now.


End file.
